The Hunt
by Phoenix of the Air
Summary: The Mirkwood Army had two elite forces that were named Rangers and Warriors. Well-known for their playful hostilities between themselves, each would challenge the other in some form of competition. In this case, the Rangers challenge the Warriors in what is known as "the Hunt". One-shot but complete in Prologue, and three chapters. Please read and review. :)
1. Prologue

Author's Note:

This story is a gift to the readers of "Over Time, We Are Brothers", which is an Eomer and Legolas friendship story. It was a 100 review gift. I thank them for their patience, as the story had exceeded well over 100 reviews and I had been unable to post this story until now.

Please enjoy!

All OCs and plotline belong to me.

Please read the prologue in order to understand the story better.

* * *

_Takes place a year or so before The Hobbit,_

_The Forest of Mirkwood,_

_Middle-Earth._

_Prologue:_

"…_And then there is the matter of the Hunt. It was a game fondly played by the Warriors and the Rangers of Eryn Lasgelen, formerly known as Mirkwood. This game is only native among the elves of Mirkwood. It was meant to keep the Warriors and the Rangers 'on their toes', so to speak. And yet deep within this game lay the core of camaraderie and friendship between these two main sects of the Mirkwood Army, whom neither were willing to admit._

_Regarding the nature of the Rangers and Warriors, the Rangers were silent guardians of the forest. They were masters of herb-lore, for they lay great stress on usage of poison among their main weapons. All of the Rangers were archers and preferred knives as their secondary weapons instead of swords. Knives were easier to wield on uneven ground than swords and are meant to strike at the weak spots of the enemy than go for a blunt kill. The Rangers are much more 'loose' on protocol and are merry in company but mysterious as the night when in battle. Among the Rangers are the following; Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Eryn Lasgelen. Dorián, Legolas' loyal friend and a talented spy who infiltrated Dol Guldur more than once in service of his King. And finally, Fion, who was Thranduil's right hand blade and Commander of the Rangers._

_As for the Warriors, they were a direct opposite to the Rangers. They obviously preferred swords instead of bows and showed no love to poison, desiring to meet their enemies out in the open and in honest battle. Tighter in protocol but honorable and trustworthy as rock, nevertheless. Regardless, it is certain that these two groups were the elite forces of the Mirkwood Army and faced hostilities and friction between themselves whenever they met. And that is where the Hunt comes in…"- The Customs and Traditions of the Elves Past, by Barahir, son of Elboron._

* * *

Author's Note:

This story was inspired from the playfulness and the joyful nature of the elves of Mirkwood as shown in the Hobbit.

The documentary style in the prologue is inspired by the style of documentary in various notes of Tolkien which he used as if written by notable heads like Elfwine, son of Eomer or Elboron, son of Faramir.

Barahir is the son of Elboron who in turn is the son of Faramir, the Steward of Gondor (We all know him, of course).

The idea of the Hunt is my idea and the idea of the Army divided into Rangers and Warriors is my idea as well.

This story has three chapters after the prologue. Update will be frequent, so no worries there.

Diclaimer: I do not own LOTR.

Fion, Dorian are my OCs. They and the storyline belong to me.

Please read and review. :)


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"…_. In the Hunt, the only Main Rule was absolutely no use of weapons. The purpose of the Hunt was test the skill of tracking in part of the Warriors and the skill of hiding and sneaking in part of the Rangers. The hunt lasted from hours to even days (though only one Hunt had gone to the point of days). The Hunt would end at the point where one of the two teams had captured the most of the opposite team members. For example, the Rangers will win if they had captured more Warriors and vice versa. Although, by the time the Hunt ended, both sides would look at the funnier side of the situation. Such were the wood-elves of Eryn Lasgelen. They were bright and merry in nature."_ -_The Customs and Traditions of the Elves Past, by Barahir, son of Elboron._

The forest was silent. Its trees shifted slightly, as if the forest was alive. The brown trunks of the trees were so dark that they were almost black. Leaves rustled in the wind, filling the still air with eerie noise. A troop of orcs marched below the trees.

Two elves sat comfortably on the branches of a tree beside the main road. They were well hidden by the leaves surrounding them. They were hooded and cloaked, with dark browns and greens to help them blend into their surroundings. They both eyed the passing intruders warily.

One of them glanced at the wind, and once he was sure that it was passing their way, he spoke, "You would think they would show at least a little bit of respect for us, who own this forest." The wind was blowing towards them, carrying their voice away from the marching orcs.

"I doubt they have any sort of respect for us, Dorián." The other replied, blue eyes still intently following the orcs.

"As we have none for them," Dorián retorted. "Why are you so calm? This is your father's lands; you should be furious!"

"I am furious." The other responded, before abruptly falling silent when the wind changed its course. Once the wind picked up and turned into their favorable direction, the elf continued, "However, they are only passing through. Had they caused some sort of mischief, I would have entreated to my father to put an end to them."

"So I cannot kill them?"

The second Ranger threw his friend a reproachful look.

"Nay, you may not." There was a hint of sternness in his voice, signifying him a leader or a commander. "You will not go to the fletcher for more arrows."

"Pity," Dorián muttered.

They sat in a comfortable silence as they watched the orcs tramped past them. Once they were sure the intruders left, the two elves dropped to the ground. They both pulled off their hoods. Dorián freed his black locks from his hood. The other one had startling fair hair and a pleasant face to look upon, but a smile that told many to keep anything that could be used for mischief away from him. Dorián studied his friend.

"You know," Dorián said at last. "I do not know how your father lets you out of his halls, Legolas. You are a disaster waiting to happen."

"Says the elf that prowls about near Mannish taverns and ruins of Dol Guldur-"

"I was on a mission!"

"Indeed!"

"Your father sent me there!"

"So you say."

"Indeed, I do. We have to get back?"

"Why?" Legolas Greenleaf asked, pulling his friend off the road. They were both trained into the Ranger arts. Open, public areas like roads and so forth did not suit them well. Once they went back into the bushes, the Prince continued, "The Sun is shining and the forest is alive. What wondrous adventures await us here!"

"Well, a meeting awaits us back in your father's halls." Dorián retorted.

"Meeting? What meeting?"

"Have you forgotten the military meeting that your father had set for today? We have to converse with the Warriors from your father's army."

"Ai," Legolas mumbled.

"My thoughts exactly." Dorián commented. The two Rangers pulled their hood over their heads and blended into the bushes and trees, slowly making their way towards Thranduil's Halls.

oOo

Thranduil drummed his fingers endlessly on the armrest of his throne. Besides him, his chief advisor stood straight with hands clasped behind his back and with a polite look of (fake) interest on his face. noticing how the king continued to drum his fingers on the wooden armrest, the advisor bent gracefully and whispered in the king's ear, "Bored, your majesty?" His chief advisor murmured; his voice was dry and devoid of any humor. Thranduil glanced at him. Thorontur was loyal and sincere. He was tall with his features extremely hawk-like and the driest personality anyone could ever have. It was a wonder that he developed a friendship with someone like him.

"If you want my answer in one word, then yes!"

"Well, my liege, we have this meeting and the one after it before we take a round of the homes outside your halls." This time, there was a trace of slight humor in the lean advisor's tone.

"Your humor never ceases to amaze me, Thorontur." Thranduil replied dryly, his eyes still upon the speaking petitioner. "Where is my son?"

"Well, in Commander Fion's precise words, he is 'prancing about in your forest'."

"Tell him that just because he had mentored my son does not mean that he can speak of him thus."

"You can tell him yourself." Thorontur whispered back. "He is your childhood friend after all. Besides, Fion regards him as his own adoptive son rather than an apprentice nowadays. He would probably reply that he had every right. Now, my liege, it is best that you return to the matters at hand."

"It is not fair that my son is out while I am stuck here."

"It is not fair that I waited upon your father King Oropher and then now I wait upon you and yet here I am." Thorontur said. There was barest trace of laughter in his voice. "Keep heart, Sire. We will go hunting once we are done."

"What is the second meeting about?"

"It is… a military meeting, Sire. Our Warriors and Rangers will be there."

"Oh dear."

"Indeed."

oOo

Clad in simple shirt, breeches and cloak that would blend into the colors of Mirkwood, he walked with resolute purpose. His bow and quiver was slung across his back and his dual knives were held in place with linked belts. He frowned once he reached his destination.

"This had better be the council room." The elf muttered. He proceeded to open the door, only to be stopped by the servant standing by.

"Commander Fion," the elf addressed him. "You are to leave your weapons here."

"On whose orders?" Fion asked.

"On the orders of the King in remembrance of… the last meeting…"

"Ah yes," Fion nodded his understanding. He unclasped his quiver and sheathed knives. The last meeting was quite… interesting. The Ranger offered a small smile that immediately smoothed over his sterner features before handing over his bow. Once relieved of his weapons, Fion opened the door and entered.

Only Thranduil and Thorontur were present in the council chamber. The king reclined in his chair, as was his fashion. Thorontur, ever dutiful, stood by silently.

"It is good to see you again, old friend." Thranduil said warmly, seeing Fion enter. He got up from his seat and embraced his childhood friend.

"I hope you do not meet anything by the word 'old'." Fion commented, thumping Thranduil on the back.

"I would be implying that I am old if I say anything as such to you."

"I thought this was a meeting between Rangers and Warriors."

"It is, indeed."

"Then what are you doing here, Thorontur?" Fion asked jovially, glancing over Thranduil's shoulder at the silent advisor.

"Do not carry that tone with me." The hawk-like elf replied. "I wielded a sword more times than you had fletched your own arrows… fletcher."

"Word-player."

"Careful, my extensive vocabulary allows me to be more creative."

"I see the hostilities between Rangers and Warriors have not faded." Thranduil interrupted. "But do try to act sensibly. My son, Legolas and his friend Dorián will be attending this meeting. It would not do for our youth to see their old peers bickering amongst themselves."

"Thranduil, my friend, you are truly crossing the line by saying 'old'." Fion said, turning to his friend.

"I mean it this time."

Their banter was interrupted by a small laugh. The three elves looked towards the door where the laugh originated. To their utter dismay, the door was wide open, and the very same two elves stood by the door of whom they were talking about earlier.

Legolas stood with his arms crossed. His childhood friend, Dorián, was leaning against the prince with his arm thrown around his slim shoulders. Both were grinning.

"Do you see what I see, Legolas?"

"Aye, I do. I see three grown elves twice or thrice our age arguing unreasonably. What a shame."

"I will make you scrub the kitchens for your cheek, boy." Thranduil said gruffly, eyeing his son.

"And you have no right to speak to me thus." Fion added to Dorián. "Remember, I mentored both of you at the same time, I might add. It was quite a remarkable feat."

"For one as old as you," Legolas and Dorián chorused.

"Children these days!"

"We are not children!" The two qualified Rangers protested indignantly.

"If the Rangers are fighting amongst themselves, imagine what the meeting will be like between Rangers and Warriors." Thorontur told the King.

Unfortunately, Fion heard the remark and stopped his bickering with his two former apprentices.

"Oh, do not worry," Fion said, turning his head towards Thranduil and Thorontur. "We are fully capable of standing together against the Warriors when we want to."

"Hear that, Sire?" Thorontur said dryly. "A challenge has been issued. Do we dare accept it?"

"Hold," Thranduil said, patting the arm of his chief advisor. "Remember the last time we went on a Hunt."

Thorontur stifled a grimace. The three Rangers grinned. The last time the Rangers had issued a challenge of the Hunt, four of the Warriors disappeared in the beginning of the Hunt. By the time, it ended they had lost majority of their members as captives. The Rangers had given them a marvelous ribbing afterwards.

"Who was issuing the Hunt?" Dorián asked innocently. "No one was issuing the Hunt. Were we issuing the Hunt, Legolas?"

"I would say not." Legolas replied, grinning.

"I refuse to call you my son!" Thranduil said in mock anger. "Who taught you to be so manipulative?"

"You did, father." Legolas replied smoothly.

Whatever reply Thranduil had planned was lost when a chorus of voices interrupted them.

"Prince! You are blocking the way!"

"That is Ranger for you. Trust them to stand in the way of danger."

"Hear that, Legolas?" Dorián asked as he and Legolas shifted to make way. "Warriors seem to think they are a danger. They forget the better and likely one who can easily slip poison in their drinks." Dorián winked at Legolas.

"And you forget the one who can wield a deadly blade." A Warrior said dryly as he passed by the pair. Legolas raised his hands, palms outward in a gesture of peace.

"This is going to be one interesting meeting." Dorián whispered to Legolas.

"Hush!" Legolas whispered back. "Remember, we have to get them to accept the Hunt!"

"Do you actually think the Warriors will fall for it?"

"They are Warriors, Dorián. It would be a surprise if they will not."

"I dare you to say that in front of your father."

"I have no desire to spend a night in the dungeons, Dorián. Now, silence! The meeting is starting."

oOo

"Alright, let us be honest." Thranduil said finally, crossing his legs and sitting back in his chair. On one side of the table stood the Rangers and on the other side stood the Warriors. The Rangers looked on innocently, while the Warriors exchanged knowing amused glances. "What do the Rangers want?"

"We do not know what you are talking about, Your Majesty." One of the Rangers said innocently.

One of the Warriors gave a disbelieving snort.

"They have been dropping hints everywhere." He said gruffly, crossing his arms.

"What hints?" A Ranger by the name of Arandur asked.

"Hints of getting their Hunt accepted," Thorontur said.

"Let us accept it, then." Thranduil said, his grin slightly roguish. "I am tired of hunting the same prey again and again."

"On one condition," Fion interrupted. "You will not use your hounds."

"That is unfair." One of the Warriors protested. "Your Rangers are too good in sneaking. The least we could use are the hounds."

The gleam in Fion's eyes was bright.

"First, you admit that we are more experienced. Secondly, the Hunt is to test individual skills and not to test the hounds' senses." Fion said, sounding slightly proud. "And lastly, what is the fun if you had hounds?"

"Obviously," the Warrior who had spoken muttered back as he settled on his seat.

"So are we agreed?" Legolas pressed.

"We are."

"Well, then." Fion said, leaning back in a self-satisfied way. "Let us get to work. We are losing daylight."

_What we have gotten ourselves into, _Thranduil wondered as he watched the Rangers exchanged triumphant looks.

oOo

Thranduil tightened the buckles of his sword to his belt. He pushed back his cloak so that it only rested on his shoulders. Unlike the Rangers, Warriors kept their cloaks only on their shoulders so that their movement remained unhindered. He wore mail under his shirt.

"Are you not forgetting something?" Thorontur asked, coming up behind the King.

"Am I?"

"Weapons are not allowed in the Hunt."

"The Hunt does not allow weapons but the marching orcs that we have moving about certainly does. Arm yourself, Thorontur. Fion has changed the rules. You can carry arms but you cannot use them."

"We need more time, then."

Turning about, Thorontur shouted the news to the other Warriors who quickly left to arm themselves. It was better to be safe than sorry, Thranduil decided.

Half an hour later, the Warriors were mounted on their horses. The Rangers had left long before, obviously to ready the traps for the Warriors.

"Let the hunt begin!" Thranduil shouted. The Warriors steadied their eager horses. Shouts were heard at the gates as the city guards pulled back the heavy, large doors. Thranduil felt his heart lift as the scene of the green forests came into view to greet him. He had always enjoyed hunting, even before he became a king. He loved the wind on his face and the sound of his horse heaving in the gallop. He loved to chase his prey.

With a shout, Thranduil led the company out of the gates. This time, their prey was completely different. This time, Thranduil thought in amusement, he was hunting his son.

* * *

Author's Note:

Fion, Thorontur and Dorian are my OCs that you will find in the story "Over Time, We Are Brothers" (Eomer and Legolas friendship story).

The appearance of the orcs is because at that time, the goblins (or the orcs) were becoming more and more active, showing the fact that the darkness was returning to Middle-Earth. What I am showing here in this story is the final playfulness before the story of the Hobbit comes into picture.


	3. Chapter 2

_Author's Note:_

_Some of the people were wondering if I would use Tauriel for this story (that she-elf in the Hobbit movie). The answer is; no, I will not. One reason is that when I had written this, I had envisioned it as male environment, and putting her in here would only be awkward. The other thing is that in Tolkien's time, women were not so outspoken and such and hence we do not see it much in his writing. While I agree that the she-elves were taught how to fight, they certainly did not take part in battles unless there was a dire need (with exception to Galadriel)._

_Also, if anyone is thinking there is OOCness in this story, please remember that we do not know much about Mirkwood and its habitants in the first place. Legolas was more regarded as 'merry' and the only one 'light-hearted' among the Fellowship, so I have tried to capture that. As for Thranduil, we do not know much about him except that he is a king who is 'less wise, more dangerous'. However, the people of Mirkwood were 'merry' and 'loved to feast'. So it must shadow the king as well._

_Also, elven magic is not my work. In the Hobbit, the elves of Mirkwood were 'strange' and were able to use magic because of the lights in the clearing and the sleep spell they used over Thorin._

_Also, I just found out that Barahir (the narrator of the 'book') may be the son or nephew of Elboron, depending upon whether Elboron has siblings or not. However, here I have depicted him as his son._

_Thank you to all those who took the time to review. It means a lot to me. _

_So please drop by what you like (or don't like). That is the only way I will improve._

_On with the story. :)_

**~S~**

Chapter 2

"_The Royal Family of Eryn Lasgelen (and by here, we of course particularly mean King Thranduil and his son Legolas) took an active part in the Hunt. However, not many dared to challenge them, for both were experienced and masters of their respective skills._

_The Hunt was not easy. With the heightened senses of smell, sight and hearing, many of the Rangers' traps and ambushes backfired. The game soon morphed till it only relied on the team's tactics and whether they were daring enough to push forward or pull back."-_ _The Customs and Traditions of the Elves Past, by Barahir, son of Elboron._

The Rangers' clearing was the clearing where the Rangers met and ate together in the forest. The clearing changed from time to time, because the Rangers never liked to stay at one place where they would be spotted. The trees around the Rangers' clearing were friends, with their boughs lighter brown and their leaves greener. They protected the Rangers while they ate and conversed, alerting them of any danger. Above them shimmered the lights that were summoned by Elven magic. These lights would be extinguished if any unfriendly or unknown being stepped into the clearing, giving the Rangers enough time to disappear into the trees undetected.

He looked at the Rangers, who were laughing and conversing as they passed bowls from hand to hand. His lips twitched a little when he thought of the Warriors who were combing the forest for the Rangers. Then he immediately became grave for the task at hand.

"This is a difficult decision you have given me." He said aloud.

"It is a choice you must make, Sire."

"There is much that lies at stake."

"Indeed there is."

"What lies at the end of the road if we gain victory?"

"We gain honor and prestige that will go down in history."

"And if we fail in our cause?"

"Then I am afraid that we are at a loss."

He said and looked at his comrades sitting about the warm fire. One of the Rangers brought out a flute and played a merry tune. So much is at stake…

"Very well," he said heavily. "Let us get on with it."

Dorián suddenly grinned.

"Right then," he said, dropping Legolas' formal title. "Do not look so glum! I am surprised you have the courage for this, Legolas."

Legolas looked away from the Rangers to glare at Dorián.

"Stop grinning at me! My head will be in line for this!"

"Do not exaggerate."

"You know my father, Dorián. He will probably throw me into the deepest dungeons he could find."

There was a pause as Dorián slowly contemplated the idea.

"He probably would." Dorián admitted. "What is the matter? You are not going back on your word, are you?"

"The son of Thranduil never goes back on his word." Legolas said with as much dignity as he could muster. Dorián snorted, ruining the moment.

Legolas ignored him and stepped back into the clearing.

"Rangers!" He called out for attention. "My comrades! Douse the fire and ready your weapons! We hunt!"

"And what is it that we hunt?" The Rangers asked.

"Why, the biggest price, of course! We hunt the King!"

oOo

The forest looked just about the same as it always did. The trees were deep brown to the point of almost black, and the leaves were dark green. The trees rumbled menacingly but Thranduil paid them no heed. Such trees were those who had fallen into darkness, but they never truly meant any harm. But the trees that were friends dipped their branches in greetings and if Thranduil observed, then with a little amusement as well.

Thorontur brought his horse forward beside Thranduil's.

"It has been two hours since the Hunt began." He said quietly. "And still no sign of the Rangers."

Thranduil could not help feel a little bit of unease. In times like these, it did not mean much because the Rangers love secrecy above all. But in a Hunt (where the Rangers _want _to show off their skills), it always meant trouble.

"Feeling nervous, Thranduil?" Thorontur asked, scanning the trees for any sign of the Rangers.

"Of course not!" Thranduil snapped back but did the same as Thorontur was doing.

"You know what would be amusing? If your son is the one who catches you first."

"That boy would not dare!"

"He is your son, Thranduil. He will dare."

Thranduil glanced up the trees again, this time imagining his son among them. He could just picture his son fingering his bow, hooded and cloaked as he watched Thranduil and his Warriors pass.

For a moment, his fatherly side protested that his son was far too honorable to capture his own father and superior. Then again, Thranduil corrected himself, his son was too much like him in personality. He might dare to actually capture him.

Thranduil was a hunter; he did _not_ enjoy the prospect of being hunted.

oOo

Most of their plans had been complete before the Rangers had issued the hunts. Legolas went over the plans of the traps and the cages with satisfaction.

"Feeling brave, boy?" Fion asked gruffly, coming to stand beside him. Legolas glanced at his former mentor and smiled slowly.

"You are enjoying this." Legolas said at last.

"I am not."

"Aye, you are."

"What makes you think I am?"

"Fion, this is your close friend we are trying to capture."

"Well, then, aye. I am enjoying it." Fion said, smiling widely.

"Father is going to kill me." Legolas muttered, turning his head back to the plans again.

"The traps are being set. Let us see if we get some bait."

"It shouldn't be too hard. Spiders are not very bright."

"Somehow I doubt that my Rangers are very bright at all."

"What makes you think that?"

"This is insane!" Fion exclaimed. "You know it is insane."

For a moment, Legolas considered the idea of his father, the king of the Woodland Realm, bound hand and foot by the very Rangers who are his subordinates. He let out a chuckle.

"It is insane. Do you want to call it off?"

"And miss the chance of seeing Thranduil captured by his own son? Never."

oOo

Thranduil was _definitely _feeling uneasy now.

It was almost evening, and there was still no sign of the Rangers. They did hear some activity somewhere off their left flank but it was very far. Somehow, Thranduil felt that his son and the Rangers were behind him. whatever they were doing, it had set the trees to laughter.

Thranduil reached with his hand to touch the bark of a tree he was passing.

_~What are they doing?~ _He asked silently.

The tree did not reply.

"Conspiring weed," Thranduil muttered, nudging his horse to keep going.

After some more sounds of the distant excitement, the forest fell silent again.

"This is not looking very good, Sire." One of the Warriors murmured.

"I am well aware, Halon." Thranduil murmured, glancing at the broad-shouldered and strong-jawed Warrior.

"Permission to ride ahead and scout?"

"Rejected," Thranduil replied. "I do not want to find out that the first team to lose a member is us."

"As you wish," Halon said, smiling. "Although, I think I am capable of handling them, Sire."

Thranduil snorted. "Really, Halon? You forget that we found you after the hunt ended, and you were hanging upside down from a tree-"

"I understand, Sire." Halon interrupted, chastened but still grinning.

Thranduil spurred his horse forward until he joined Thorontur.

"These Rangers have taken too many laughs in our expense for their own good." Thranduil muttered.

"Thranduil," Thorontur said.

"What is it?"

"We were thirty Warriors each divided in three groups."

"I know, what of it?"

"Turn around."

Thranduil turned and checked his numbers. Instead of thirty Warriors, they made a total of twenty-five Warriors."

Thranduil was baffled.

"How did they-"

"We stopped a while back, remember? When we were waiting for an ambush?"

"Aye, but-"

"The five Warriors had gone into the forest for scouting. They did not come back."

"And you are telling me this now!"

"Well," Thorontur's dry voice carried a hint of amusement. "It is not surprising, given that the Rangers had won the previous five Hunts in a row."

Thranduil growled and whipped his head around to face the front again. He dug his heels into his horse to spur it forward.

oOo

There was a spur of activity in the Rangers' clearing. The Rangers quickly equipped themselves with their dual knives, hidden knives and bow and quiver. Legolas helped his comrades to quickly extinguish the fire and turn over what signs were left of their presence.

"Where is the bait?" Legolas asked Dorián as they both brought back the wet dishes and hid them into the underground rooms.

"Well-caged and secure," Dorián answered, stacking the dishes on the shelves. "We merely need to move out from here."

"And the Warriors?" Legolas said, handing his pile of dishes to Dorián to stack.

"They have crossed the main road and now are on the other side of it. They are looking very uneasy. By the way, some of the Rangers could not help themselves and captured five Warriors when they least expected it."

"That was easy," Legolas remarked as Dorián closed the doors. The two friends climbed up the rope ladder and closed the trapdoor behind them. They covered it again with soil and foliage.

Up ahead, they saw the Rangers ready. Fion was dividing them into groups and assigning them as to which Warriors they were to hunt.

"You fifteen will go after Halon, Gilon, Hanon, Himdir. I would give you more but those four are a headache as it is. And you fifteen will go after…"

"Just remember to leave Thranduil and Thorontur to us." Legolas said, coming up. Dorián came to stand beside him. "If too many Rangers go after them, the Warriors will pick up on what we are doing and our plan will be ruined."

"We will leave them to you." One of the Rangers promised.

"Besides," Another added, laughing. "I do not want to be the one catching our own king. Lenient as his majesty is, I doubt he will forgive us as quickly as he would his son."

"Mind you, I think I am overreaching myself." Legolas muttered.

"Look alive." Legolas shouted, raising his voice as he passed through the crowd of Rangers. "Orcs are about in our forest. Keep your bows at the ready and show no mercy if they attack. While we indulge ourselves in play, remember the danger within the trees. Stay in groups and do not go alone. Other things can hunt besides the Warriors. If any Warrior is in danger, forget the game and help him. our brothers' lives come first than the competition we have with them."

Above them, the lights extinguished, leaving them in the darkness. The Rangers pulled up their hoods, leaving behind their merriness and becoming mysterious shadows of the forest.

"Into the lion's mouth, we go." Dorián whispered to Legolas, referring to his father.

Legolas laughed, tapping the cage holding the spiders as he passed them by.

**~S~**

_Author's Note:_

_Hehe._

_Do not forget to review. :D_


	4. Chapter 3

_Author's Note:_

_A whole lot of action in this chapter. Hope you enjoy._

_A very long chapter to make up for my missing in action phase, lol._

* * *

Chapter 3

The thrill of the Hunt flowed through his veins. His ears were unbelievably sensitive, picking up the slightest of sounds. He heard the birds chirp above them, the sounds of a fox capturing its prey, the rustle of cloth as his comrades followed him silently. He turned his head, his hood pulled low to shadow his face, with a cloth over his lower face to hide his identity. he signaled with two fingers of his hand, telling them to move more silently.

Centuries of practice came into play as he picked the moss to tread on, knowing that it would spring back into place as he passed. Behind him, the other Rangers were doing the same.

Dorián came up to them.

"We need to climb." He whispered. The trees of Mirkwood were famous for their extensive branch growth. The Rangers always found it easy to go up and travel from tree to tree.

"That will take too long." He whispered back. "Keep going on foot. And go slow. Let us draw them in."

Dorián smirked. "It is your father, Legolas."

He grimaced, but did not reply.

They moved slowly, their green-black cloaks blending them into the shadows of the forest. The trees were darker here, as they moved further away from Thranduil's Halls. Some said that they were evil, though the elves knew that for the moment, they were neither evil nor good, simply being trees.

They moved on for another half an hour until they heard the distant sounds of hooves.

oOo

Thranduil's skin prickled in anticipation. Cold fingers of warning scraped against the back of his neck. He tilted his head slowly, assessing the forest around him.

"What is it?" Thorontur asked, suddenly alert. The Warriors caught on the king's mood and looked about suspiciously.

Thranduil did not reply, allowing his horse to walk at a leisurely pace as he listened and watched. He caught the flickering shadows of the forest, listened to the fox catching its prey, and the sounds of the birds above him. somewhere deep inside, he heard the rustle of what he was sure was cloth.

He stopped his horse abruptly.

"Dismount." He said quietly, his voice only meant for Thorontur's ears. Thranduil dismounted his horse, his loyal advisor following suit. The Warriors took the hint and did the same.

The grass crunched under his boots, making him clench his teeth. He was sure the Rangers heard that. His fingers itched for his sword, but he knew if he drew it, the team would be forfeit.

Thorontur touched his arm lightly. Thranduil looked at him. He saw his advisor tilt his head lightly. Thranduil looked over at the direction Thorontur indicated.

The gloom of the trees hid it well, but Thranduil's blessed sight caught the faintest outline of a hood and the cloak. It was still and if Thranduil's eyes had moved rapidly, he would have missed it.

Thranduil stepped forward slowly, and the Warriors took the hint. With a cry, they moved towards the lone Ranger. Immediately, the Ranger turned and raced through the trees, dodging the poking roots and such as he nimbly moved up the land. Thranduil followed, and the elves behind him were close by. He would catch him, he thought as he felt himself catching up to him. That lone Ranger will not stand a chance. Then he remembered something from the previous hunt.

_No lone Ranger stood alone…_

At that precise moment, the Ranger came to a stop and raised a horn to his lips. Three short blasts came from the horn, and Thranduil dimly recognized the silver around the horn's edge. That horn was a gift he had given to his son! He knew who the Ranger was!

"Legolas!" Thranduil shouted.

Even as he called out to him, he suddenly became aware of eerie sounds of the forest. These were the sounds of heaving bodies over earth, the pricking sounds of needle like appendages, something that Thranduil always knew and hated.

"Spiders!" Thorontur hissed, drawing his sword.

Thranduil drew his own sword, looking for the Ranger but he had vanished.

Black creatures, with fat bodies that wriggled and juggled in a most repulsive manner lowered down from the tree with sticky spider strings.

"_Meat! Soft, warm meat!" _Spiders, bodies quivering in anticipation as they closed around Thranduil's company.

"Make them regret their choice, elves!" Thradnuil replied, evenly looking into the face of one spider who eyed him back with many glittering black eyes.

The Warriors gave loud battle cry as they charged behind their king. Thranduil moved his sword swiftly and surely. He cut through one spider's appendages and embedded his sword in another spider's abdomen as it reared back before returning to the maimed spider to finish it off.

"Why do I get the feeling this is a trap?" Thorontur shouted, the normally slow advisor moving with the speed that could only have come through aggressive training. Thranduil could not help but agree with his advisor. His son was up to something.

Whatever it was, he could not think over it. He gave a sharp hiss as one spider slipped past his guard and sank its hairy appendage in his hip. Before letting it go any deeper, Thranduil whirled his sword and sliced the limb off, making the spider squeal.

"_You will pay for that, wood elf!"_

"That is an insult, that is."Thranduil replied through gritted teeth, pulling out the cut limb from wound.

Above him, he heard a cry from the branches of the tree. Looking up, he saw his son, his hood and mask gone and his face twisted in utter fury. The Prince of Mirkwood raised his bow and loosened the arrow on the spider who dared hurt his father.

"Father!" Legolas cried, making the motion to drop to the ground.

"Stay!" Thranduil called. "Stay where you can be of some use! You cannot shoot from the lower ground."

Legolas looked reluctant, but saw the logic behind his fahter's words. He brought his bow up and made it sing.

Soon, the Warriors heard the constant hum of bows as other Rangers joined in the fight. Help had arrived. Spiders fell about them, and the Warriors scattered, giving chase to the spiders, Thorontur leading them.

Thranduil leaned heavily on a wide trunk of a tree. His hip ached, and his mind was dizzy from the venom.

"Father!"

Legolas' anxious face came into full view.

"Not to worry," he murmured. "It is just a scratch."

Legolas gave a snort.

"Do not snort at your own father."

"At the moment, you cannot chide me."

"Of course, I can chide you. I am your son!"

"You mean my father." Legolas corrected, grabbing hold of Thranduil' arm and placing it around his neck. "Come. We will give you the antidote. It is fast acting, and you should not be too far from it."

Thranduil only hummed and leaned against his son's frame as he lost his consciousness. He did not notice the younger elf's triumphant smile.

oOo

He was warm. Someone had placed a blanket over him, protecting him from the cold winds that came down from the mountain. He curled into himself further, the ache in his hip receding. His head was clear; someone had undoubtedly given him the antidote.

Strange though, the bed was hard, as if made from wood. He turned his head lightly and his free hair caught into the crevices of the wood. He raised his hand to pull it free and then froze.

His hands were bound.

His eyes snapped open, only to find that he was in a cage. His hands were bound and secure, but not so much as to cause discomfort or to stop blood flowing into his hands. The blanket was of a fine make and elven, there was no doubt. The cage was not crude, but well-made and strong.

Thranduil's memory came back to him.

"Booooy!" Thranduil shouted in his fury and amazement.

"Morning, father!" Legolas said cheerfully, appearing outside the king's cage. "Although, it is evening at the moment. How do you fare? Do you feel sleepy, or dizzy? Do you have nausea?"

"Boy!" Thranduil said again.

"What is the matter?" Fion asked, appearing beside his former apprentice. "Are you speechless, my friend?"

"Where am I?" Thranduil stuttered. His mind knew where he was, his heart could not believe it.

"You are captured." Fion supplied helpfully.

"What!"

"The spiders were a distraction." Legolas explained. "You were far too used to our traps and other things. And so, we decided on using the spiders as bait."

"Whose idea was this?" Thranduil ground out, glaring at Fion.

"It was mine." Legolas said. Thranduil's head whipped about to look at his son.

"Yours!"

"I am deeply sorry, father." Legolas said, grinning widely as he bowed with a dramatic flair at the King within the cage, his free and unbound golden hair falling over his shoulders as he did so. "I could not resist."

"Legolas," Thranduil sputtered. "The audacity!"

"Do not be angry with him!" Thranduil's head jerked up at Fion. "Capturing you was my idea," Fion went on. "Although the finer details were Legolas'."

"You will all pay for this!" Thranduil exclaimed, finally grasping the situation. Legolas immediately took on a dark look.

"Oh, we will." The younger elf said. "My Rangers blackmailed me into this. And I know you will not let me go until I do. Still!" Legolas brightened. "This is going to be so much fun, father!"

"Release me at once!"

"That cannot happen." Fion interrupted. "We have a Hunt to win. So be a good lad, and stay put, my friend!"

Thranduil sputtered, but Fion and Legolas turned away to command the waiting Rangers.

When they turned away, only then Thranduil let out the chuckle that was bubbling in his throat.

oOo

Thorontur's lips twitched as he gazed at the obvious trail in front of him. First, the Rangers managed to capture the scattered Warriors, then their king and now they had set up a trail that Thorontur was meant to follow.

"Should we follow it?" Halon asked uncertainly.

"Of course, we will." Thorontur said, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sheathed sword. "I am going to make the Rangers regret this."

oOo

Thranduil closed his eyes and smiled.

"I am fine, you know." He said aloud, feeling his knots loosen and tighten again.

"I know." Legolas replied, his hands still going up to check his father's bound hands and ankles.

"If you make them any looser, I might be able to escape."

"You would have to find your bearings first. This is a different Ranger campsite we brought you to."

He felt his son prod his injury gingerly.

"It only hurts when you poke your fingers into it." Thranduil pointed out.

He felt Legolas raised his head gently. Thranduil finally opened his eyes as Legolas helped him sit up.

"Here," Legolas said gently as he raised a goblet to his father's lips. "Something to wash out the taste of the antidote."

Thranduil smirked at his son's fussing and sipped the cool and welcome water. He noticed the bowl of warm stew and bread. When Legolas took away the goblet, he tore a piece of bread and dipped in the stew before offering it to him.

"I can eat by myself, you know." Thranduil said ironically.

"I do not know, father." Legolas said seriously, with only a glint in his eyes betraying his mirth. "You might escape if I loosen your bonds, after all."

"Impudent youngling," Thranduil muttered, before accepting Legolas' another morsel.

Legolas laughed.

oOo

Two hours later since the attack of the spiders, Thorontur came upon the edge of the Ranger's campsite. The shadows of the forest had lengthened as night fell. But no stars shone; it was too early for them.

"Have you come to surrender?" The shout went up.

Suddenly, the camp was alight with glowing orbs floating above them. Thorontur noticed the many Rangers in the trees and on the ground. with a sinking feeling, he noticed Warriors of the other two companies bound hand and foot in clusters. They were well taken care of, since warm blankets were spread over them and he had no doubt that the Rangers would have given them warm food and cool drinks.

"Never!" Thorontur shouted. "Now, where is my king?"

"Take a look yourself," Fion said, pushing through the crowd to come to the front. He point. Thorontur followed the general direction until his eyes rested on Thranduil. The king sat upright, his feet and hands prominently bound.

"I will ask you again," Fion said, smiling as Legolas and Dorián came to stand by him. "Will you surrender?"

Thorontur did not answer but turned again to his king.

"I thought you were a fearsome king who could intimidate anyone!"

"I am!" Thranduil protested. "But it seems my son' impudence has rubbed off on my Rangers… who were sworn into my allegiance, if I may add!" Thranduil spoke the last part in a considerably louder voice, making many Rangers cringe, much to Thranduil's and Thorontur's satisfaction.

Fion was just about to make an indignant reply when they heard something.

A horn. And then another. And then another. The blasts were far and slowly coming closer and closer to the campsite. The forest shook and went silent. But the trees screamed at them.

_Orcs! _The trees shouted, jolting awake from their slumber. _Orcs coming to kill!_

"To arms!" Fion shouted, and Thorontur took up the cry. Immediately the Rangers went to the captive Warriors, and sliced open their ropes with their knives. The Warriors armed themselves with their swords that were still within their reach. Legolas raced to his father's cage, and opened it. He freed his father and then handed him his sword.

"Can you stand and fight?" Legolas asked, helping his father as they jumped down the high cage.

"I may be old but I can still take orcs to task, boy!" Thranduil said gruffly, rolling his shoulders as he straightened. The Rangers extinguished the camp fires. Soon the floating orbs will lose their lights as well.

Thranduil jerked in surprise as he felt Legolas firm grip on his shoulder.

"Take care, father." Legolas said, swiftly hugging him.

"I will." Thranduil promised.

"Legolas," Dorián shouted, scrambling up the trees. "We have to gain height now!"

Pulling away, Legolas followed him. Thranduil watched as Dorián let his arm down to let Legolas catch it and pulled him up when he did so.

_Orcs upon you! _Trees cried out at him.

"I know, I know. Stop whining." Thranduil muttered, unsheathing his blade.

Ninety Warriors were behind him as he led the charge. All of a sudden, the orbs above them vanished, leaving them in total darkness. Their eyesight was sharp, though in this kind of darkness and without any light from the stars or the moon, it was very limited. They trusted more on their hearing and scent.

The scent of the orcs were powering, their sounds even more so. Thranduil heard the orcs' snarls and growls, and was capable of pinpointing where they were.

"Take them out." Thranduil told the Warrior standing beside him in a soft voice, knowing it was Thorontur. The advisor never left his side wherever he went.

The advisor let lose a loud cry before coming upon the orcs right in front of him.

Thranduil heard a hiss of a blade and leaned back, the orc-blade missing him by inches. He swiped through the orc's trunk, cutting open is abdomen. He turned and took down the orc behind him, letting his sword embed into the orc's neck before jerking it free.

He heard a cry of pain in a fair voice, and knew one of his Warriors was in danger.

"Where are the Ranger when you need them?" Thranduil said irritably.

As if on cue, the lights reappeared, and Thranduil took in the sight of his enemy. Disfigured and dark faces greeted him. he glanced around, finding Thinon, his Warrior, on the ground with a sword in one hand and his side clutched in another. A look of agony told him that he was the one he had heard in the dark.

"Protect your brothers!" He heard Legolas shout above him, the Rangers replying in kind. A volley of arrows showered upon them and around them, missing the Warriors by inches at times and fully taking down the orcs.

And so it was. They worked in complete harmony. The Warriors stayed on the ground, preventing the orcs from climbing up to reach the Rangers, and the Rangers protected the Warriors' blind sides, and any Warriors who was wounded from their higher position. The orc-archers had a difficult time taking hold of the Rangers' positions, for the orbs floated low and shone brightly in their faces, consequently blinding them.

A battle that could have gone on for two hours at the very least finished within an hour.

"That was a large group." Thorontur exclaimed once the last orc fell. The Rangers came down from the trees. A quiet command from Fion sent some of them away into the woods, to look for any strays. "There had to be a little more than a hundred!"

Dorián did not reply, but concentrated on the wounded Warriors.

"Any casualties?" Fion asked instead.

"I do not think so." Thranduil replied.

"And why is that?" Fion asked, his face carefully controlled, though there was a slight humor in his voice.

"Because," Thranduil said through gritted teeth. He knew what his old friend wanted.

"Because?" Fion prodded.

"Because you came to our aid." Thranduil said finally.

"Thank you." Fion said, almost purring in satisfaction. "Now we need to discuss the matter of the Hunt."

"Fion!" Thranduil reprimanded him.

"What?"

"Ahem."

Fion turned towards the sound. There, standing tall was Thorontur, his hands clasping Legolas' arms behind him tightly. The advisor had a smug smile on his normally expressionless face.

"Did I not tell you that I am a Warrior in spite of my position of an advisor, Fion?" Thorontur asked, tightening his grip on the Ranger's second Commander, the prince of Mirkwood.

Fion ignored Thorontur and addressed Legolas directly. "Did I not tell you to look after yourself?"

Legolas smiled sheepishly. "I did not realize he came up behind me."

"Bah!" Fion said. Then he turned to the advisor. "It seems we are at a tie. So who will forfeit first?" as he spoke, Fion made Thranduil get up, the King and the Prince facing one another.

Father and son shared a glance. Thranduil knew that the Warriors' pride was great. Losing to the Rangers for the sixth time would not do at all. The humiliation would turn this harmless game into a real battle. But on the Rangers' part, Legolas could not forfeit as well. The Rangers took great joy in their craft, loving the thrill of the secrecy and the chase that followed when exposed. To accept defeat would not sit well for them either.

Neither of the two royals were foolish. They may not be as wise as Elrond of Imladris, or as cunning as Galadriel of Lorien, but they were wise in their own fashion. And they had long learned that the wood elves of Mirkwood had an honor of their own. So as Thranduil and Legolas shared a knowing look between themselves, both resolved to do the same thing.

"Neither of us forfeit and neither of us accept victory." Thranduil and Legolas said at the same time.

"What!"

Thranduil shrugged off his friend's firm clasp, and Thorontur let the prince go as well.

"It is a tie." Thranduil said simply. "And I think it is fitting, since we were interrupted by the orcs, after all."

"That is not fun." The Rangers complained, who had been listening in. "We had the upper hand!"

"Which you lost once you let the Warriors lose." Thorontur snapped.

"The orcs were attacking!" They protested. Legolas pounced at once.

"Precisely!" He said. "A tie it is then."

"Come, come!" Fion said, getting over his surprise. "We have to clean up the battle field and look after those fools of Warriors. Do not give me that look, Halon! If you knew how to wield a sword, you wouldn't be in this mess.

"I would like to see you at the ground next time we fight." The said Warrior muttered after the Ranger Commander.

Legolas smiled and went after his former mentor, intending to help with the cleaning. Thranduil stayed behind, looking thoughtful as he studied the dead orcs.

oOo

That night, Legolas walked into through the silent corridors of the Halls, his hair still damp from a wash and gleaming scarlet in the light of the lanterns. He tugged on the collar of his embroidered shirt, straightening it before skidding to a halt when he spotted a lone figure standing at the balcony he was passing by.

Thranduil jolted from his thoughts as he felt a hand over his shoulder. He turned to see his son's curious eyes on him.

"Why are you standing here, father?" Legolas asked, tilting his head slightly to access his father's pensive mood. Thranduil looked away, his son's eyes too scrutinizing for him to keep eye contact.

"I merely wanted some fresh air, boy."

"I know your moods, father." Legolas chided gently, placing his hands on the balcony fence and leaning over. Below, the elven archers were practicing their archery under the stern gazes of the Rangers.

Thranduil did not reply but looked at the practicing ring, where the Warriors were supervising the training for the elf maidens. They would not take part in any fights, but should the army was away and their homes were attacked, the she-elves could fend for themselves.

"Can you feel it?" Thranduil asked, leaning over the same way as his son did.

"Feel what?"

"The shift in the air?"

There was silence.

"Aye."

"The world is changing its course, my son. I feel this peace is coming at an end."

"When did you come by this notion?"

"The moment we were attacked by the orcs."

Legolas sighed and straightened, one fist absently hitting against the fence. Thranduil noticed and placed his hand on it, stopping it gently. Legolas looked down, surprised but then placed his other hand on top of his father's.

"You know, today," Legolas said aloud. "I think the decision to end the Hunt in a tie was a good one."

"Well it kept both the Warriors' and the Rangers' pride."

"That is not the only thing, father." Legolas said slowly. "If you are right, and the world is truly changing, then I think we and the forest of Mirkwood have something more to face. And this time, I think it will be hardest experience ever."

The two royals stood on the balcony, quiet as they mulled over dark thoughts.

Just then, a horn sound in the courtyard, its notes bright and true. The training stopped, and the elves congratulated one another on another successful night of practice. They went inside the open large gates, eager for the merry feast and the merrier singing. Legolas laughed suddenly.

"Come, father!" Legolas said, tugging on Thranduil's hand trapped between his own. "The night is young, and the dragon is afar! We have time yet to enjoy our life. Let us make the most of it, then! Our swords may break and our arrows may splinter in whatever war that comes upon us, but we will stay strong and survive because of our unite folk. Come! There is merrymaking to be made!"

Thranduil smiled and let his son pull him away impatiently from the balcony. But, as all good kings are wont to do when they worry for their kingdoms, Thranduil threw a backward glance at the balcony, wondering if there was a war beyond the dragon.

"_Such was their way. The people of Mirkwood lived on in enjoyment and peace. They had leanred more than once that unity above all made them survive the worst things that Morgoth and Sauron had thrown their way. Some even say that the Kingdom of Mirkwood was the strongest and the most true, as it did not diminish as Lorien and Imladris had, nor did it lose its beauty and splendor as time went on. Many looked for the reason of it; some said that the Elven King was a stern elf, ruling with an iron hand. Others say that the people of Mirkwood were war-like, basing their instincts purely on survival. But in Lord Elboron's opinion, who met and lived with Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgelen, the wood elves stayed together and worked together, such that when Dorián the Ranger and Spy was captured by Dol Guldur, the elves had risen like a storm of the sea and battered against the very walls of Dol Guldur."- The Customs and Traditions of the Elves Past, by Barahir, son of Elboron._

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_So this is the final chapter of the Hunt and it is complete._

_I am sorry of the late update. My brother was getting married and we had to ready the house, greet the guests and what not... the whole drill. I had just become free from it all._

**_Acknowledgements:_**

_Huge thanks to emi and ilovevolleyball for the continuous prodding to get this story up. I had been feeling (admittedly) lazy._

_Sincere thanks to all my reviews of "Over Time, We Are Brothers" without whom I would not have been able to get this story up and running. _

_Also, special shoutouts to my constant reviewers branke1, emi, ilovevolleyball, 1monster2, aronoiiel._

_Also, thanks to my new readers I picked up when I wrote this story. I hope I did not disappoint!_

**_Sequel?_**

_There is a sequel planned for this little story and it will be the same as this one, meaning with a prologue and three chapters. I do not know when I am going to put it up, maybe when I get enough reviews on Brothers At War, lol. But the name of the sequel is already decided. It will be called **"The Duel".**_

_**Other announcements:**_

_A lot of my readers had asked me to complete the story "The Marshal And The Ranger". Frankly, I did not know someone was even reading that, but the number of reviews convinced me to finish that. So I hope to rewrite it and post it soon._

_Also, "Over Time, We Are Brothers" now has the final of six chapters plus an epilogue. So that story is coming to an end as well._

_There were other requests of readers which I will entertain once "Brothers At War" and "Gardens of Ithilien" are completed._

**_Good? Bad? Horrible? Please, leave a review! :)_**

**_-Replies to reviews of this story:-_**

_Authorunable:_

_May the odds be ever in your favour indeed!_

_I will take that as a compliment. he he. :)_

_Guest:_

_Thank you. I am glad you enjoyed it. :)_

_DerangedOtakuFangirl:_

_Lol, thanks. Sorry to keep you waiting. _

_aronoiiel:_

_Lol, indeed. I hope it stayed entertaining indeed._

_Yeah, I did not introduce new characters (much) 'cuz I did not want to overwhelm you guys. Now I think you guys could have taken it. :P Ah, well._

_You were quiet patient, I will have to admit. A lot of my OTWAB readers were and I am very thankful for that!_

_emi:_

_I just realized that I had replied very shortly to you on OTWAB. I am sorry about that. I had been half-sleepy when I posted it. So I will make it up here. :)_

_Thinking like me? I thought I was dropping hints all over the place! lol. But you were half-way correct anyway. The Rangers did not win completely._

_Haha, I mentioned Tauriel and the Elven Magic because most people think that the latter is fanfic and the former is necessary for fanfic._

_I am glad I am giving weird hints. :P I like throwing people off. *catches falling people from the cliff*_

_And it was your review on OTWAB that gave me the push I needed. The story was ready but I was like 'uh, I can't get up to do it'. So ya, you had a hand in this. You have every right to feel spoiled! :)_

_The game in Ithilien. Actually, I never thought of it that way. But I do think it is a good idea. I should try that sometime! __:)_

_ilovevollyball:_

_P.U.S. :P_

_You know, I can say something really gross to match that. Yes, pimples. Oozing pimples (ew)._

_Wait, I just grossed myself out, lol._

_Peanut butter cookies and coffee! It is a delight to hold!_

_I hope you enjoyed. :)_

_brankel1:_

_Haha, True!_

_Nowa1:_

_Wow, a lot of people said that. I am so so sorry to keep you guys waiting like this. :s But I am glad you enjoyed it!_

_1monster2:_

_Hey! Ya, thank you. I hope you enjoyed it. Do let me know. ;)_

_ .77:_

_Hi! Yeah, a whole new idea. I did not know how ppl were going to take it, so I am glad it reached a positive crowd. So do let me know what you think now the story is complete!_


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